


Hell Hath No Fury (A Woman Scorned)

by UnderMyHeaven



Series: Persephone's Diaries [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: But I strongly urge you to read it., Cheating, Diary/Journal, F/M, First Person, Hades is a good boy, Heartbreak, It Gets Better, Myth of Minthe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Revenge, Sweet, The first chapter is just an introduction, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, each chapter is a diary entry, inconsistent chapter length, the underworld is my aesthetic, update schedule what update schedule
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderMyHeaven/pseuds/UnderMyHeaven
Summary: To Persephone,I know you have made your own decisions, daughter dearest and I know that my words mean very little to you. But I also know what men can do to a woman’s mental state and so I gift this small ream of paper to you, pressed with flowers made in your first spring and bound in the leather of the cow that was slain to celebrate your birth in the hopes that it reminds you of home and all the hopes and dreams by which you were born. Never forget who you are and never lose yourself to love. Use this paper as you see fit and I pray it will see you through many trying times. Know I am always here for you, my beautiful Kore. Even if you may feel like I do not understand, I do. I will always be here to listen to you and to offer my advice, what little it may mean.From, Your Dearest MotherDemeter





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a seriously rough WIP and I appreciate any help/advice/words of encouragement!
> 
> This also happens to be my first time ever posting to AO3 so.... Yay! *pops a bottle of sparkling grape juice* Sorry its non-alcoholic... Its a school night.

A pillar of an intense white light cut through the darkness, the sounds of stones and dirt hitting something hollow echoed throughout the chamber, having not been moved in thousands of years. Excited voices, raised slightly and calling out for help, echo down from the small ten centimeter hole and over empty bones laid to rest eons ago. 

Less than five kilometers west of Hierapolis, the entrance to hell, cut into the hillside was a tomb, long ago sealed shut and covered with several dozen feet of hard petrified rock and dirt. 

_“İşte! İşte! Buldum!” _The sound of feet thudding, scampering for more tools to move the stubborn stone. The metal tip of a pick axe pokes through, scraping at the sides of the hole to loosen the stone and make the hole large enough for fingers and then hands to break through and scrape at the sides. Slowly, ever so slowly, the hole became bigger and bigger, the shaft of light growing and allowing the first breath of fresh air to gust into the cavern in so long.__

____

The process was excruciating, painstaking and took weeks but finally, _finally _after so long of waiting and held breath, the hole broke open enough to allow a single person to slip through, lowered on a knotted rope into the modest cavern. A flashlight shone through the dust and mire, reflecting against the walls first, flecks of what looked like quartz imbedded into the stone, before the light angled down to find a place for sure footing.__

____

The sight below was macabre. Dozens of dead bodies, all spread out on the floor of the cavern in a way that felt random, like the humans they had once been died where they lay. But upon closer inspection, all the bodies were fanned out, maybe positioned deliberately, to seem like they were crawling towards something. 

__

The focal point of the sight was a single hand, propped up above the mass, holding an object, too worn and discolored to be identifiable from the vantage point of the sole living thing in the cavern, hanging from the rope. 

__

_“Yukari!” _the young man cried, _“Yukari, Yukari!” _There is a slight hesitation as the command is repeated to all present above and then the rope is pulled up, pulling the nameless man out of the hole. Scrambling through the tight fit, he gripped the edge of the unassuming opening, arms of his comrades reaching down and gripping him, pulling the rest of his body out of the hole with a little effort.____

______ _ _

Gasping, the archeologists from Britain and America, the greatest minds the world had to offer, collapsed in the roped off area of the excavation. A few were inquiring to the health of the young man- the smallest among them and so the first to go in. One asked if there was any danger, another asked what he saw, and yet another asked about ease of getting equipment down into the hole. All were talking at once, each trying to be heard over the other, and the din was so loud that they didn’t hear it at first.

______ _ _

Laughter.

______ _ _

Like small bubbles of champagne, laughter shook the young man's chest as he rolled onto his back, face slicked with dirt and sweat. “Gentlemen,” he was beaming from ear to ear, his voice breathless from joy and exertion. “We’ve found it.”

______ _ _

The others all looked at one another before turning back to him. “What is it we’ve found, exactly?”

______ _ _

“The lost Journal of Persephone.”

______ _ _

 

______ _ _

At first glance, the bundle of cowhide looked unassuming, the leather worn in the folds and creases. Nothing decorated its front or back, just the soft texture that belonged only to things very old and very loved. It was held together around its contents by a strap made of the same material, most likely the same cow as the rest of the leather. A no-nonsense knot easily undone the only thing of note about it. 

______ _ _

Once opened, the leather delicately pulled away in a sterile lab in Oxford, a small, leather-bound book saw light for the first time in eons. The cover of the book matched that of it’s bindings, telling that the binding it was found in was meant to stay with it as a set. The cover at one point had been painted, the design of twisting vines and flowers along the edges delicately etched into the surface of the leather and thanks to the cover, most were still visible, the paint had long since disintegrated, leaving only bare traces of discoloration. Upon opening it, the old bindings creaked in protest before giving way, revealing pages upon pages of tight, not quite perfect handwriting. Different kinds of flowers were pressed into the pages at different intervals, dried but surprisingly well preserved. 

______ _ _

On the first page of the small book was an inscription in delicate script:

______ _ _

 

______ _ _

> To Persephone,  
>  I know you have made your own decisions, daughter dearest and I know that my words mean very little to you. But I also know what men can do to a woman’s mental state and so I gift this small ream of paper to you, pressed with flowers made in your first spring and bound in the leather of the cow that was slain to celebrate your birth in the hopes that it reminds you of home and all the hopes and dreams by which you were born. Never forget who you are and never lose yourself to love. Use this paper as you see fit and I pray it will see you through many trying times. Know I am always here for you, my beautiful Kore. Even if you may feel like I do not understand, I do. I will always be here to listen to you and to offer my advice, what little it may mean.  
>  From, Your Dearest Mother  
>  Demeter

______ _ _

 

______ _ _

And that is where the story begins.

______ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Click here](http://bit.ly/2yYwlzD) for an Index and my list of sources!
> 
> Sorry it's so short and the awkward way I wrote things. I finally just finished the main part of this for a school paper and I was super excited to post it but I had to post the Intro first so... *offers my bad, sleepy writing* have some drabble to give you context before the story starts.


	2. March 24th, in the First Year of My Reign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of her first day back, this is a longer post so I broke it up as succinctly as possible.

**March 24th, in the First Year of My Reign**

It’s so weird to write that, let alone say it. No matter how many times I write it, I can never get used to it and even now; after several months of my official coronation as Goddess of the Underworld, its still new and kind of incredible in the purest sense of the word. But Mother says I must get used to dating written things correctly and so I shall continue to force myself to write it as many times as I need until it feels normal to date things as such. 

The First Year of My Reign

The _First_ Year of My Reign

The First _Year_ of My Reign

The First Year of My _Reign_

The First Year of _My_ Reign

Ha. I’m sure this isn’t what Mother had in mind when she had this journal made and bound for me but I’m tired and I had a long day so my thoughts are a bit scattered and I think that’s a bit obvious. Returning from the Underworld, apparently, is a really big deal- especially if you’re the queen of said underworld- and deserves all sorts of pomp and circumstance. From the time I woke up this morning to when I finally got back into my bedroom and kicked off my shoes to collapse on my bed- and subsequently on top of this reed book and quill- I had been primped and preened and shown off to everyone so they could praise me and give me gifts and thanks for bringing spring back with me to the mortal realm. It's so exhausting and so very very fickle since I know that tomorrow begins the real work as well as all the prayers and requests from the humans. 

It’s like they're saying “We're glad you're back! Now give me stuff!” and honestly, it’s probably the worst part about being a god.

But at least I get time off, so I suppose I shouldn't complain. But even so; it drives me mad! It’s like because I take a few months off, the humans think they can just ask that much more of me when I do return. And, on top of that, just yesterday I was doing completely different work so it almost feels as if I’ve forgotten how to be the Goddess of Spring again. But, as Hades told me two nights ago as he held me against his chest and lulled me to sleep with his deep voice; it’s in my blood and everything will come back to me the moment my bare foot hits the newborn grass. 

He’s right, I suppose. But I can’t help but worry. It’s in my nature. 

I suppose I should write about today, my first day back in the mortal world, before I forget all the details. I am getting a little tired but I will try to stay awake and write about it while it's still fresh in my mind. I will give myself until the oil burns from my lamp to write as much as possible and then go to bed. I've just refilled it after leaving it neglected for so long so I should have several hours to get my thoughts down.

To start off, I didn’t get much sleep last night, not for the reason that everyone seems to assume though. Yesterday, my dear husband threw me a feast where all his fellow gods and goddesses of the Underworld came to the banquet and presented me with farewell gifts. It was like our wedding celebration all over again but far more somber. Hades and Daeira tried to make it more upbeat, but I could clearly tell that there was a dreary note to the festivities. The few dear friends I had made were sad to see me go, uncertain if my mother would uphold her end of the bargain. They mourned my leaving as if…well, to be blunt, as if I was going to die. Maybe not quite like that, but it’s the closest thing I can compare it to. And the many others who weren't there for me but for my husband’s sake, clearly thought that the moment I would step back into the mortal realm, I would forget his highness and break his heart by falling into the arms of some other man. Ha. As if I would have the time! Either way, most if not all attendees assumed I wouldn't be coming back for one reason or another and it bothered Hades more than he wanted me to know. 

“Do not let it bother you, Sweetums. We both know the truth and that’s all that matters.” Gods but his faith in me is so endearing that it’s almost sickening. He would give me that soft half-smirk that I learned early in our relationship was only meant for my eyes while hurt shone in his own deep red ones. “And I am sure that the summer shall pass quickly and soon enough you will prove them all wrong with your triumphant return.” 

There was a receiving line and gifts galore, most of which had to be left behind so as to not overload my trunks that would be sent after I got settled in the mortal world. I received many arrangements of the underworld wildflowers that had started to bloom all over the realm due to my presence. I was also gifted a drinking draft from Lethe, one that is corked with heavy magic so I cannot drink it by accident (which is much more likely to happen than me actually needing it legitimately). She handed it to me and murmured really low, under her breath something about it being “strong only enough to erase one night of memory,” before she scurried away with her slow, shuffling gait. Hades looked almost embarrassed of his work associate but I thought she was sweet, shy and awkward, but sweet. Other gifts weren’t as memorable; a coin from a dead man’s mouth was a gift from Charon, his indifferent, flaming eyes skating briefly over me and to a fixed point somewhere behind me on a wall. He was still grimy and unwashed, hair half combed but he had new clothes at least so I didn't mind too much. His voice was hollow and raspy as he bowed to me and wished me safe travels. All around, he's just a really creepy guy but Hades trusts him with one of the most important jobs in the underworld so he can't be that horrible.

For the most part, I just sat at the head table and ate a little as people continued to bring me things. As usual, the more superficial nymphs waltzed in late, some drunk and with half-assed apologies. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for anything that anyone gives me but they basically just brought me sprouts from the Asphodel Meadows, trash easily obtained and nothing special. I was…I felt…insulted. And by the look on Hades’ face, it wasn’t an entirely misplaced emotion. All throughout the night the group of primped and coiffed nymphs made a nuisance of themselves, tittering at the thoughtful gifts of others, getting drunk, and tormenting spirits. At one point, one of them claimed to have “ _accidentally_ ” spilled her wine on Lethe’s shoes and I was ready to fight someone. The look on the woman’s face was just heartbreaking and I nearly saw red.

But other than that, the night went by with little incident, music and dancing and, overall, I had quite a bit of fun, sipping a little of my favorite pomegranate wine as the night went on. As usual, when I imbibe a bit too much in the sweet alcoholic drink, I got really sleepy and don't remember much of what happened after that besides Hades’ warm chest under my ear and the soft rocking motion as he carried me up to our bed for the night. 

The next thing I remember is Daeira throwing open the curtains, letting in the light from the flames of the River of Fire burn my sore retinas. Sitting up, I’m sure my hair was more than sleep-tousled and probably resembled a rat’s nest rather than actual hair. I was rubbing my fists into my eyes to try and force them open so I didn’t see the literal entourage of nymphs carrying in the scores and scores of silks, tulle, and other fine fabrics from across the human globe.

Opening my eyes, I made a sort of noise that was the cross of a dying squeak and a gurgle, my eyes hurting more for how wide they were than the actual residual tremors of my hangover. No wonder the other side of the bed was cold; Hades would have wanted literally nothing to do with this kind of thing and I have to admit that I didn’t blame him one bit. In fact, I was envious. 

I was yanked out of bed and primped and preened and I had to try on at least eight different combinations of fabrics until Daeira made a noise of satisfaction, finally seeing some sort of _something_ that set this apart from the rest. I couldn't tell the difference between this particular combination and the others but Daeira seemed pleased with the result.

I was then accosted by the legion of nymphs, some positioning themselves to paint my face, others taking sweet smelling lotions and rubbing them into my limbs. My untamable bed-hair was attacked, brushed and combed into submission, and twisted into the fashionable updo I only ever saw big-deal goddesses wear. Gods, but it was painful. By the time all the nymphs stepped out of the way of the mirror, I was certain I was gonna see blood dripping down my temple and over my chin, ruining the clothes that Daeira had just picked out for me. My eyes had been squeezed shut tight against the pulling and twisting of my hair and I forced them open just to assess the damage. Maybe if I was injured, I could skip going up today? But no, when I finally coaxed my eyes open, my hair was in a perfect updo, not one strand out of place. My face was glowing with whatever shimmering powder one of the nymphs had so graciously dumped on my head and my eyes were wide and luminous.

My mouth popped open and I noticed just the slightest tint of color, something that my mom would have had a hissy fit about back before I was taken. But now she wouldn’t be able to do more than just sneer at it when she saw it. I was married now and I could wear the color that married mortals wore on a regular basis. I blinked a few times, my eyelashes thicker than I remembered them being. “I look… like a goddess…”

Daeira threw her head back and laughed in a way that she never would if it wasn't just me and some low-level, unnamed nymphs. “You _are_ a goddess, Sprout.”

“Well… yeah, but like… a _big deal_ goddess…!”

At that, her face twisted up just a little bit, either in pain or confusion. “Sprout. You are the _Queen_ of the _Underworld_. Is that not a big deal enough?”

I was quiet for a moment, realizing that I may have insulted Daeira and the whole of the Underworld. I bit my lip and nodded, a slight flush coloring my cheeks. “I… You’re right. I just never really thought of myself as that… important?” It was true, my mother was the one who went to Olympus twice a year, sometimes more, leaving me behind to watch over her work for only a day and even then she never was gone longer than necessary. _I_ was the goddess that farted flowers. Whenever I sneeze, a field suddenly springs wildflowers. Who was _I_ to be the Queen of the Underworld? 

Fingers snapped an inch away from the tip of my nose, Daeira’s harsh voice cutting through the beginning symptoms of a panic attack. “Oi. Sprout. Breathe. You’re in your chambers in the palace and no one is questioning your claim to the throne. You’re fine. That’s it.” 

Daeira worked me down from the panic like a well-trained guide, my shoulders relaxing as my eyes focused on the depths of hers. Finally, I took a final deep breath, the cold fingers of the panic leaving my skin and I looked around, embarrassed by the display of un-royal terror. But my chagrin was unnecessary. Daeira had already sent all the other nymphs away, most likely snapping at them to scram while I was in my own head.

“You okay, Sprout?” Daeira’s eyes were shrewd, piercing through any pretense I may throw up and I let my face show the truth in my words.

“Yes. Yes, I am much better. Thank you.”

She chucks me under the chin, offering a rare and genuine smile. “Don’t mention it. Now let’s get you downstairs; everyone is waiting for you.”

We walked down the main staircase, the smooth dark marble reflecting my face back up to me from beneath my feet. I had my lip caught in my teeth and as soon as I realized what I was doing, I released it. It would be just childish enough that the first time I am wearing lip color, I mess it up by chewing it off. Pursing my lips and rubbing them together, I covered any color that had been pried off by my nervous habit, lifting my chin and squaring my shoulders in that regal way that I had seen Mother use many times as she left to go to Olympus. As if she was going to war.

At the base of the enormous staircase stood Hades in all his fine glory. Soft wool spun on the most delicate of Arachne’s looms, wound and dyed a dark, shimmering coal with details of silver embroidery along the edges. He had his head turned slightly to the side, conferring with Hecate. His brow lowered over his eyes in a sign of serious concentration on whatever issue plaguing his domain today. Cerberus was in his domestic form, a single head looking up at his master before I made some sort of noise or caught the corner of the dog’s eye and his snout whipped around, his maw opening into a funny grin, his tongue lolling out of the side and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly in excitement. Like the good boy he was, he stayed sitting at attention, the top of his head at about the level of the top of Hades’ hip, his chest puffed out in pride and his eyes shining with the puppy personality he never grew out of even after several thousand years. And because the dog looked up at me, his master wasn’t far behind, first his eyes lifted in a near lazy look, like he had all the time in the world to look at me and my whole being melted ever so slightly. His lips quirk in a soft smile, one that said ‘Yes, my dear. You are the center of my world’ and I nearly fell down the stairs, my steps slowing just a bit before I embarrassed myself. He said a few more words to Hecate before fully turning his head towards me in a nonverbal dismissal of the other goddess.

A grin spreads across my face when I finally have his full attention and I gracefully reach the bottom of the stairs. Daeira was the required three steps behind me as I walk up to him, my sandals making very little noise as I stand in front of him. We both take a moment to look at each other, drinking in each other's appearance and committing it to long-term memory as best as possible. My head is tilted back at an angle just shy of uncomfortable; our height difference prominent with the toes of my feet less than a third of a cubit away from his. I think briefly about what we must look like to an outsider’s point of view, my chin tilted up and my smile soft and wifely, or as close as it can be to wifely, and his gaze; amused and indulgent, our dog sitting between us, all his terrifying monstrous true self forgotten as he tilts his head to the side, one ear perking up as if asking if the two above him were gonna kiss. I let myself daydream, holding it tightly in my mind, wanting to remember the moment and have it keep me warm for the next seven or so months while I was away. 

“You look lovely.” His voice was low, only meant for me to hear but I knew that Daeira would be able to hear it as well as anyone else in earshot.

I felt my cheeks warm under the praise and I dip my head in thanks, looking at him through my eyelashes as I smile a little. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Our moment was broken by someone clearing their throat and my head whipped around, a flash of irritation spiking hard and hot in my gut before I blinked. There was a small crowd of people, most of whom were higher ranked minor gods. There were some nymphs there as well, gossiping and tittering amongst each other, no doubt making some lascivious comments of some sort at my expense, but all were clearly waiting for me to leave so they could get on with their jobs, their lives.

It pissed me off. Wasn’t I allowed to say goodbye to my husband? My cheeks flushed in both embarrassment and righteous irritation. But I said nothing, turning back to Hades and smiling up at him softly, running my fingers over the soft fabric of his tunic, smoothing over the wrinkles for the last time for seven months. It was a bittersweet thought but I was a big girl and there was no way in My Husband’s Name I was gonna cry in front of any of these people.

So like the big girl I was, I straightened up, lifting my chin and letting my eyes narrow ever so slightly in the perfect picture of utter disinterest. I stepped away from Hades, my head held high and my shoulders tilted back. My eyes trained dead ahead of me, not sparing even a flicker or a fraction of a glance for any of those judgmental buffoons, all whom I was sure would be whispering in Hades’ ear the entire time I was gone that he should leave me in the mortal world and take up a _real_ wife.

Okay, so admittedly I am still a little peeved about it. And maybe I’m being too harsh but I _have_ heard them say such things to Hades before, when they thought I couldn’t hear or that I didn’t care enough to listen. No one in Underworld thinks that I can do it. That I can be their queen. Especially when the majority of the year, I’m not even there! It’s not my fault my mother threw such a bitch fit! And it’s not my fault that Zeus couldn’t stick to his guns! Granted, I didn’t like Hades at first. Granted, I wanted to be rescued. Granted, I was terrified of anything having to do with the exotic recluse who was rumored to be cruel and perverted beyond any living thing’s imagination! But Mother came too late if she wanted to find her scared, untouched Kore. This whole thing is utterly unfair!

I hate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Persephone had to take a step back and calm down. Part two of the post will be uploaded next.
> 
> [Click here](http://bit.ly/2yYwlzD) for an Index and list of my sources!


	3. March 24th, in the First Year of My Reign {Later}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer because when I originally wrote it, I left out a lot of details I wanted in so I had to add A LOT. So sorry about that!  
> So the reason I broke this up is because, like I said, the first entry would be long and plus, it gives it more of an authentic "Diary" feel...
> 
> Also, this chapter has one of my favorite sections. The gardens of Hades is such a powerful moment, in my mind, and I hope I did it justice.

**Later**

Okay. Sorry. I had to calm down, step away, and cool off. 

I have very strong emotions about my life right now and I needed to just lay down in darkness for a bit to bring my thoughts back together. 

Anyway. I've refilled my oil lamp and I'm ready to sit back down and pick up where I left off.

Hades offered his arm to me and I took it gratefully, relishing in the last bit of the contact I would have with him for a while. And arm in arm, we led the procession out through the grand courtyard and I looked around, saying goodbye to this sacred place. 

When I first got to the Underworld, the grounds surrounding the large estate was barren, save for a few pomegranate trees. But as with any form of plant or greenery, things started to flourish in my presence. At first it made me even more homesick, the pale grayish green leaves looked ugly to me; a gross impersonation of the color I loved so much from home. They looked sick and when touched, the leaves shed a sort of ash, staining my fingers the color of dying, sun choked foliage. They, like any other ghost or spectre, were also cold to the touch. But not a normal kind of cold. It’s a hard thing to describe but instead of ‘cold’ it feels more like ‘the absence of temperature’ and it feels like it’s literally sucking the warmth from your fingers, leaving a bone-deep chill. I scorned them and what they represented. I even stepped on a few, trying to kill the ugly things. But slowly, as I became more and more lonely and more and more comfortable in this world, I grew to love them, tending to them even more carefully than I would my precious lilies; their delicate nature almost calling to my nature itself. As I grew closer to Hades, the more flowers grew and I began to tell the difference between each flower, each of their personalities and what they liked or disliked. This one likes the warmth of the River of Fire, that one liked to be out of direct light or any if possible, this one liked it when I touched it often, that one didn’t want to be touched but liked my voice. The flowers here were so distinct and much more different from one another than any other I had ever seen. It was only after I coaxed the whole courtyard into bloom did Daeira tell me; every flower was a child’s soul. A child lost to sickness, neglect, murder, or by pure misfortune. Each of them came back as a flower to be tended by Hades until they were called back to the world of the living and pulled into existence to try again. It was only until the second time the child died did he or she come to the fields as a Child of Hades, by proxy adopted to have a father. But Hades hadn’t had much time to care for the child-flowers, only the truly strong ones, the fighters, were to be reborn. The others go straight to the fields to wander in the lonely state of the forgotten, crying for mothers they do not know. When I was told this, I wept for days. I wept for all the flowers that had no chance to grow. All the children that not only Hades neglected but that I destroyed deliberately.

After that, I went back to work twofold and now the entirety of both the small front courtyard and the larger courtyard in the back were completely different. Hedges, fountains, even a pagoda that overlooked a small pond; everything decorated with a dense covering of flowers, their stems stretching out to whom ever would walk through the gardens, seeking attention and praise for their progress. Whenever I would take walks through the gardens, I liked to stop every so often and take a particularly wilty-looking flower and whisper encouragements to them until their faces would turn up in my hand and literally start to glow a prideful soft blue under my praise. The souls of the little children would thrum in my fingers, vibrating in pleasure and start to get warm. When I asked about it, Daeria explained to me that the warmth was a manifestation of the love and attention I had funneled into the small flower reaching a peaking point and it then overflows and gives back that warmth tenfold. She said to think of it as if the flowers are thanking me and that they will return to the mortal world within the next few day cycles.

Everything was the dark color of brimstone and ash, the flowers themselves lighting the architecture with their soft glow.It was beautiful in a macabre sense and I loved it. This place was a symbol of my time here, an example of what I could do for the underworld as it’s queen and I was more proud of it than a thousand successful spring times in the mortal realm. 

We continued through the sweet smelling air. The scent of parsley was thick in my nose, tickling it in a way I used to hate but now I inhaled gratefully, filling my lungs with it and expanding my chest to try and take it all in to remember it later. We walked between the large pillars of the main entrance, the way cleared and many nymphs and servants, spirits in good standing, and gods and goddesses so minor they weren’t invited into the procession. All gathered on either side of the obsidian path, every one of them wearing a crown of sprouts from the meadows of Asphodel on their brows in both celebration and farewell to their queen. Somewhere there was music playing, a festival just beginning, my leaving the official start of the festivities of the Spring Equinox in the Underworld. 

As we made our way down through the fields, the festivities were more apparent. There were nymphs selling bark carved and molded into small animals and small arrangements of flowers they brought down from the mortal world like daisies and columbines. Some pastries were being sold too, alongside bells and chimes, the light sound they made were at odds with the bones and hair from the bodies of dead maidens that was used to make them. There were nymphs dancing and playing music, bells tied to their ankles and wrists as a mixture of spirits and ghouls played at instruments that were rotted from the inside. One spirit even had what looked like a lyre on its side, stretching along its lap as it plucked away at the strings, making an unusual sound I had never heard before. 

Hades leaned over and whispered into my ear, his breath ghosting over my skin, making me shiver slightly. “That’s a Guzheng, love. From Zhongyuan. The spirit is here, biding his time until his reincarnation.” 

Crowds gathered on either side of the brimstone path we were on and everyone seemed to be enjoying the festivities. Younger spirits were weaving in and out from between their elders’ legs, laughing and playing tag, old ribbons tied in the girls’ hair and around the boys’ necks. Everyone was dressed in their finest celebratory attire, most brought to the underworld from shallow graves many years ago and worn and reworn year after year until they started to fall apart. Most the clothing was threadbare and I knew that the need for new, beautiful clothing for the dead to wear was in high demand on the market. It was a tricky business because the dead could only wear the clothes of the dead, lest the owner of the clothes be cursed for whatever reason. That and the clothes had to be given, offered to the dead or they wouldn’t be able to wear them, this resulted in most the nicer clothes being the clothes that the spirit or undead was buried in. I had stupidly made the mistake to offer one of my ribbons to a little girl during the winter festival this past year and with it, she was able to escape to the world of the living and wreak havoc, scaring her mother half to death herself. The many scoldings I received from both Daeira and Hades about handing out my favors willy nilly was enough to scare me from ever trying to be nice to the dead again.

“Wait here.” Hades stopped the whole procession to dip into the crowd, leaving me standing awkwardly amongst the unknown deceased for a few heart-stopping seconds. But after a little waiting, he came back with two tarts wrapped in napkins and handed one to me with a smile. “I wanted you to try one before leaving. Its a local favorite.”

With a smile of my own, I lifted the tart he gave me to my lips and took a bite as we continued with our pace down the walk. It was amazing and I actually wouldn’t be able to describe it in any way. The flavor that coated my tongue has no comparison or similar flavor found in the mortal world. The taste, the texture, even the color were only things you could find in the underworld and I quickly understood why it was a favorite here. It was quickly becoming mine too. 

“I like this.” My smile apparently encouraged him because Hades began to reach into the crowd excitedly for different things. The spirits caught on fast, reaching out and offering things for him to present me with as well. He was like a child, a young boy excited to show off what he was most proud of to the girl he liked. I began to ache anew with premature loneliness. But his excitement was contagious and I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. 

It took us about two hours to make it to the border of the Underworld; a near impermeable wall of jagged rocks, their sharp edges and steep sides are reminiscent of black glass, shining in the dim light reflected from the River of Fire. Broken only by a solitary staircase, its haphazard-looking steps barely discernible from the rest of the border, it looked like some giant took an armful of smooth obsidian pieces and dropped it along the edges of what was known in the Underworld. The border reached up high into the sky, so high that the top could not be seen and, in fact, some say that there is no top; that it extends up to Olympus and beyond. I wasn't sure if I believed that but when I asked Hades, he himself said he had never seen the top nor did he know how tall it was. It was daunting, no doubt. The cliff face was spotted with the undead who attempted to escape were proudly displayed on pikes. They had fallen from such great heights and impaled so deep that all anyone could do was just let them hang there, their moans a warning to any who dare attempt the climb.

By the time we arrived at the base of the staircase, my arms were full and my cheeks were no doubt flushed with joy and laughter. Hades had things in his arms as well and as he turned back to me to help me up on to the first jagged edge of rock that made up the staircase to the world of the living, a few things dropped from his grip. With a laugh and a shake of his head, he turned to Hecate who had been no more than the designated three paces behind him the whole trip. With a knowing smile, the goddess took the stuff from him and in turn handed the items to her assistant who held a large bag he got from who knows where. Hades turned to me and took the load from my aching arms, relieving my muscles. Scanning over the items in his arms, he grabbed one twisted piece of bark and gave all the rest back to Hecate, who in turn deposited the items in the bag.

“Those will be waiting for you upon your return, Flower. But I want you to take this one with you, something to watch over you and keep you company.” Hades cupped the piece of bark in one hand and covered it with his other, pausing for a few seconds before moving his hands, holding it like it was something precious and dear to him. Extending his arms he motioned for me to cup my hands and take the object and he gingerly set the little thing in my open palms. 

Only now did I see it was supposed to be Cerberus. The rough and twisting wood giving almost a fur-like texture to the skinny little thing’s flank. It was no longer than the palm of my hand from tip of its center nose to its tail, the three heads flaring out at different heights but the wood not allowing any details in the expressions.

I smiled down at it, tears brimming in my eyes as I looked back up at my beloved. My voice was breathless, barely a whisper. “Its beautiful, dear. I will treasure it and keep it on my nightstand.”

Hades looked panicked for a slight second at the sight of my tears but my words seemed to soothe him. He reached up to lightly run his thumb along the underside of my eye, catching a stray tear. “It will watch over you when I can’t, dearest. If you need someone to speak to, it will be there as a placeholder for me.”

It was all too much; all the gifts and the tarts and candies he had popped into my mouth as we walked combined with his doting nature and sweet smile overwhelmed me. His kind words and vulnerable expression won me over in that instant and I threw my arms around him, hugging him tight in farewell. He paused for a second before wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. 

“Well now, isn’t this touching!” We jumped apart like two guilty young mortals caught in the act at the sound of the familiar voice and I knew my time was up. 

On the stairs above us, looking down fondly was Hermes, the wings of his shoes fluttering about, eagerly wanting to be set free and fly. His grin was wide and the brightest thing I had seen in months, each tooth polished to perfection and his hair captured tight against his head under his bronze helmet, also adorned with wings that were bristling with energy. While his words were sarcastic, his facial expression and tone were playful, his eyes dancing with humor as he took in the pair of them and their entourage. “What a big to-do! I would have never pegged you for someone all that special, Perse.”

Hades snarled but I tilted my head back and laughed, shaking my head. “Hermes, my brother. Knock it off. It’s not me that is special. It is the title I hold and you know that as well as I.” My husband took in my relaxed stance and seemed to second guess killing my half-brother on the spot. Hermes was always teasing and playing and one should never take him too seriously and I hoped Hades saw that I was not harmed or insulted in the slightest.

“As much as I would like to stay here and tease Mr. Blue Balls, we need to go. It’s almost sun-up and I have no desire to butt heads with Demeter today. Say your final farewells and let’s be off.” Hermes turned his back to us, giving us a bit of privacy, though it didn’t mean much when we had about two dozen courtesans watching us. 

I smiled up at Hades one more time and lifted a hand to his cheek. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can and it will be like no time has passed at all!”

He lifted his own hand and pressed mine more firmly into his face, nuzzling into my touch and letting his eyes drift closed. “Promise me you will be safe. Don’t let my idiotic brothers woo you away from me.”

I tilted my head back and let out a throaty laugh, the absurdity of the image too comical to even fathom. Besides, I had already interacted with my father once in that way and I still to this day regret it bitterly. “Never, my sweet. I will return soon.”

With that he leaned down and pecked the tip of my nose affectionately and stepped back, down one step then another so I was taller than him. The god of death’s eyes nearly glowed with his emotion, so different from the impassive way he looked at me my first month here. 

Returning a small flicker of a smile, I turned away from him and started up towards Hermes. Towards the human world. Towards my mother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy.... Almost doubled my word count for the fic!
> 
> [Click here](http://bit.ly/2yYwlzD) for an Index and list of my sources! I also add a bit of explanation of different events.
> 
> After this chapter, most of what I have previously written is bare minimum so it will take me a bit to flesh it out and make it what I want it to be. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the Kudos! I love each and every one of them and all the comments I get either online or amongst my friends.

**Author's Note:**

> [Click here](http://bit.ly/2yYwlzD) for Explanation of characters and events and my sources!


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